Me, minus prozac

I know better than to let my medicine run out. Money is so tight, I could not afford the $40 to go to the doctor or the $8 for my pills. I told myself I didn’t need them, and I went off of them for about four days. Today is the fifth.

It’s funny to me that so much pain lies under the surface. It’s when I’m off my medication that I realize how close I am to kicking everyone out of my life and moving to a new state. For some reason, the lack of seritonin makes me face the lies in my life. When I’m medicated, I’m able to handle the things that I hate. Put two and two together here and you will understand that yesterday and today have sucked.

I got my medication today. I went back to work after being off for five weeks, this week. My daughter’s dad lives with me and he does not work. My son lives with me and he does not work. There are three small children living with me. One is my own daughter. She is almost 10 and doing great. The boys are my grandsons, 4 and 5 years old. They are wonderful, but they are definitely little boys with lots of energy, a mom in jail and a dad who is addicted to drama and prescription drugs.

I’m very alone in this world of mine. The sane normal people don’t live with me. I can see their lives and long for normalcy, but what I end up with is dysfunction all around. My boyfriend can’t stand my son (because he sees too much of himself there, I think) and his vibes make the house tense. I am the only one with a job now and I don’t make much. Every adult in the house smokes except me. So when they don’t have cigarettes, I either offer to buy them or I put up with grumpy, nicotine-withdrawing people all around. I resent buying cigarettes.

My grandchildren will go to foster care if I don’t keep them. I’m more and more coming to terms with that because I may cease to exist soon simply because I have given all of myself and my reserves. I am at the point where I just want to be left alone. I have a hard time saying no to anyone who needs help, even when it is their own fault they are in that position.

I applied for cash assistance from the State for the boys and was turned down. I have foodstamps to help pay for food, but DCF suspended them for the month of July because I reported that my daughter’s dad moved in with me. So we have been struggling for food, gas money, everything.

In a way, I feel like I should shake away all the leeches that have attached themselves to my life, move to a smaller home closer to work and take care of myself and my daughter. Let everyone, including the grandsons, fall where they may. I’m not in control of this world. God is. He put us here and He will take care of us.

I’m sure I will be tempted to delete this entry later when I’m feeling better. But the truth is, I’m a writer in good times and bad. I deal with depression. I deal with waking up  next to the wrong person every day. I deal with no money. I deal with a son who drains me and two grandchildren I adore but simply don’t have the energy to raise. I have a broken heart, I am overweight. My dad died three months ago and I miss him so much, I can’t even think about him right now or I will break down. I need help knowing how to get rid of the BLAHs that pollute my life.

On the positive side, I am healthy and so is my daughter. I have four grown kids, three of which are successful and doing amazing things with their lives. I am talented, smart, kind, faithful, and true. I have great hair. I like it anyway. I love to write. I am employed. I fight back and never give up. I keep pushing forward even when I feel like pushing daisies.

I know we all have our struggles in one way or another. I hope something I’ve written here helps someone somewhere. Otherwise, I’ve made a fool of myself for nothing.

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